First meeting at the barber shop by jarino

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First meeting at the barber shop
My name is Jeri, I live only with my mother. In 1967 I was 6 years old and in the first grade. My hair was long, my mother sometimes took me with her to her ladies' hairdresser, who did a little trimming on my hair.
One Saturday morning I dressed up very nicely because we went to a nearby village to celebrate my grandfather's 55th birthday. Uncle Bruce also came to the celebration with his son Ken, who was 10 years old at the time. He also had long hair, but a little shorter than mine. Grandma said: Grandpa, don't forget to get a haircut and take both grandsons with you. She took out some old children's clothes from the closet and we changed into them.
Ken didn't want to get a haircut, but grandma was very strict, so finally Ken gave up and went with us to the men's barbershop. I was looking forward to it, because I had never been to a barbershop like this before.
After arriving at the barber shop, I was disappointed because it looked very outdated, there was only one barber chair and about 10 wooden waiting chairs. The pages were yellowed with photos of boys and men with short haircuts. We sat down on the waiting chairs, where 4 older men and one 13-year-old boy were sitting. When the barber called another, the boy got up and went to sit in the barber's chair. The boy had black hair, covering only part of his ears and bangs covering his forehead. The barber asked him: A classic children's haircut? The boy nodded and said, Yes sir. The barber tilted his head and began cutting the back of his head. In about 15 minutes, the barber finished cutting the boy, who left with a short haircut after paying. The barber gradually cut older men's hair. When another called: Grandfather took me by the hand and led me to the barber. He prepared a large wooden chair for me, on which my grandfather then helped me sit. The chair was turned away from the mirror and I was looking at the waiting chairs. The barber wrapped a sheet around me and tucked the collar of my shirt. What am I going to do with this boy, asked the grandfather. He replied to give me a classic child's haircut. When the barber was combing my hair, he tilted my head forward, put the clippers under the hair on my neck. When he turned them on, I was scared by their loud noise. The barber gripped my head tighter and pushed me forward. My first blonde hair about 8 inches long appeared on the sheet. The barber continued to cut my hair while turning my head. He also cut my hair on both sides of my head. Finally, he cut my long hair on top of my head. When he finished cutting them, he combed them and also cut off the bangs.
The barber brushed my hair from the sheet, changed the scissors, tilted my head and started to cut the hair on the side of my head and around my ear, he did the same on the other side of my head. Finally, he also cut the hair on the back of his head. The barber was still making some adjustments to the hair on the sides and back of the head with the help of a comb and scissors. Then he took a bowl of white cream in his hand, which he applied to the back of my head and around my ears with the help of a brush. He took some razor blade and started scraping off the cream. When he finished scraping the foam, he wiped the rest on a towel. He applied some water to his neck and around his ears, which stung a little on his freshly shaved head. He massaged an oily cream on the top of my head and combed my hair.
When the barber finished cutting and freed me from the sheet, Grandpa helped me jump off the high chair. Ken was already sitting in the barber's chair and the barber wrapped him in a sheet. Grandfather asked if he would give this boy the same haircut as me. Grandfather replied, yes. Ken begged for his hair to be longer. The barber told him to sit quietly and not be afraid of the haircut. He then took the clippers and started cutting Ken's hair.
I sat down on the waiting chair with my grandfather. I was wearing a shirt with a big collar, so the small stubble fell behind my shirt and it really irritated my back. I wanted to grab the hair on the sides of my head but instead of the hair I grabbed the ears. Finally, I looked for the hair on the back of my head and felt smooth skin and stubble there. I couldn't imagine my hairstyle. I didn't see myself in the mirror. As the barber applied the white cream to Ken's head, I watched carefully as the barber removed the lather with a razor. Ken had the same black hair as the older boy, about 4 inches clean shaven at the back, 1 inch around the ears, and about 2 inches of combed forward hair on top of his head.
Ken and I waited for the barber to cut Grandpa's hair. That's when Ken told me with tears in his eyes that there were only 4 boys in the class with such unfashionable short hair and there were 17 boys in the class. I started counting and then I said. There are 19 boys in our class and 11 of them have short hair. I thought about it and said, it will be 12 with me now.
Grandma was very satisfied with our hairstyles.
When we were leaving the party, Grandma stressed to my mom and Uncle Bruce that we were due to arrive on Saturday morning in 4 weeks. On the way home, I wondered who would celebrate again.
On Monday at school, I experienced unpleasant ridicule several times from boys with long hair. I was angry that they could be so mean.
4 weeks later, when we were leaving for my grandfather's and grandmother's, my mother prepared normal clothes for me, nothing festive. Ken and I were surprised to find grandfather waiting for us at the train station. After the welcome, he said: I will marry the boys. Then he led us to the barber shop. Ken wanted to protest that our hair only grew 1/2 inch. Grandpa pretended not to hear anything, then we got the same haircut as last time.

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